We Killed the Star
by Da Darkest Knight
Summary: So the Gilligan kids destroyed their mother's most prized possession. What does Dad do, destroy the evidence, clean up the crime scene, and hope she never finds out. But, they forget one HUGE witness. A friend of the family! One-shot.


I don't KND, Christmas, or the will to sleep apparently.

* * *

_'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house. Not a creature was not even a-_

"Oh no, it's falling off!"

"I got it!"

**CRASH!**

"You idiots got NOTHING!"

Oh I'm sorry, this is the Simpson's house! No, no their problems are nothing compared to the house next door. In this two-story house the Gilligan kids and their father were putting up the Christmas tree just hours before their mother wakes up. Everything was going fine, their dad went to go get milk and cookies to leave for Santa (and celebrate!), and then the star fell off the tree.

He dropped the eggnog carton, ran into the living room, surveyed the crime scene, and performed damage control in less than five seconds.

"Shh! Okay, everybody stay calm and tell me what happened!" he shouted quietly, while nervously glancing at the stairs.

His daughter spoke first, "We were all just staring at the tree, then this DODO HEAD-" everybody shushed her, "this _Dodo head _said that it was crooked, and knocks it over!"

His youngest son's mouth hanged open as though he was insulted, "Excuse me! You said that the tree was 'perfect'," he air quoted, "When in fact 1/112 of an inch away from it. I was merely adjusting it when **you **started pulling my leg!"

The oldest pulled his dreads annoyingly before he started shouting at them, "Do you brats know what you fricking done?! Mom is gonna fricking kill us, no doubt we are dead, _super-fricking_ dead!"

"Leo, stop saying fricking." he sterns his son. But, he was right, his wife is going to kill them, unless they acted quickly. He surveyed the area again, the tree looks the same as it did when they finished it, so that's not a problem. When the star fell to the floor it didn't break into a fixable way, like in half, but into dozens of pieces scrambled across the floor. The chances of fixing it were zilch.

"Maybe we can tell Mom it was accident," the sister stuttered, "Maybe she won't get too mad-"

"NO, NO, unh-unh, no we can't!" Leo interrupted her, "Mom's loved that star _way _before we were born. On Christmas, she loves it more than _us_!"

"Yeah Cera, she's always talking about how she hung that up when she was ten. Telling her this would destroy her."

She groan frustratingly before jabbing her finger at them, "You see, this wouldn't have happened if we had put the tree up when I wanted to!"

* * *

_So here's the background story on the star. A long time ago, Grandpa Lincoln bought a new star for their tree. This supposed symbol of family and unity created_ _warfare as nine-year-old Cree and three-year-old Abigail fought over who would be the first one to put it up. After an hour of yelling, pulling, and name-calling, Grandpa_ _Lincoln gave the star to his son _(whatever his name is)_ and made a decree that neither of them would put up the star until they were his age. Not wanting to wait a 'gagillion' years, they haggled him down to age ten, to Abby's disappointment._

What started off as a punishment became a tradition, when Abby hanged the star she kept that title until her nephew took over. Since then, every member of Lincoln has hanged the star on the tree when they turned ten. Each kid whether they be a Lincoln, Payton, or Gilligan, has held the title, and this year was Cera's turn, and apparently end with her. Along with her life.

"How does she remember even that far back, I don't even remember hanging it up." 15-year-old Leo asked.

The youngest son turned to his father, "Yeah Dad, how is that possible?"

Mr. Gilligan's felt his sweater get warmer as his kids looked at him for an answer.

"Um, well kids when you moment in your childhood that love very much, y-you remember that for a really... longtime," he said nervously, but snapped out of it, "But, let's get back to the problem you caused. This is what we're gonna do: we're gonna look for _every single _piece, them pick up, and bury it in the backyard. And never speak another word it."

Neither one of them blinked.

"Dad," Leo said slowly, "Even if that would actually work, how are we gonna explain the tree with no star."

He thought about this again. "You're right." he paused, "New plan; Leo, you and me are gonna take the tree down, and pack it back up, while you two pick up the pieces and bury it in the back yard." He holds his hand up before they can start complaining, "Now let's go, we gotta get this done before midnight."

He goes to take the tree down, but stopped by Cera.

"Dad! You have to take the lights down first remember?"

Realizing his mistake, he begins to take off the lights, and the rest fall in line.

"Junior, I want you count every piece, and don't forget a single shard."

Quickly, and thoroughly they begin to undo everything they spent hours doing. Leo and his dad took the tree apart, the dad being glad that his wife made him by a fake one this year, and put it back in the box. Meanwhile, Cera and Junior picked up all 224 pieces, and counted it twice, grabbed a shovel, and headed outside to the backyard.

When all's said and done, they meet back up to make sure they didn't forget anything.

"Tree?"

"Check."

"Star?"

"Check."

"Lights back in boxes?"

"Check."

"Witnesses?"

Junior looked up in confusion, "Um... we're the only ones that saw what happened."

"Which brings up this next sentence: time to go to bed!"

Junior and Cera groaned, while Leo smirked at their sorrow.

"You're going to bed, too." Leo's smirk turns to a frown.

As he ushers the kids upstairs, promises to leave milk and cookie to Santa (Leo rolls his eyes), the dad exhales air he didn't know he was holding. This nightmare was over. As walks back to the kitchen, he steps in a puddle. He takes off his wet sock, he follows the trail back to the knocked over eggnog. His phone starts beeping, signaling that clock strike twelve. It's Christmas day, the floor and his sock drenched in milk, and his wife won't let him into bed this late.

'You know what... screw it.'

He walks around the eggnog and picks up the carton, takes to two glasses out of the cabinet, pours whatever's left in each glass, takes the stale cookies on the counter, and walks back to the living room. He walks over to the figure sitting on the couch and hands him a cup, then walks over to the couch next to it.

Then he sighs, "What a day!"

"I know. I saw the whole thing." Santa told him.

"So does this mean we're on the naughty list this year?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well... clean up the eggnog, and we'll call it even."

They sit together in silence awkwardly, then Santa Claus reaches for a cookie.

"How come every time I come over your cookies chips a tooth." Santa asks.

"Look, if you want something better why don't you go to Kuki's instead of here?"

"I would, but after thirty years it's gets a little creepy. Do you know how creepy it is to have a grown woman wait for you to come down a chimney, then bug you for who knows how long?"

"I wish that was happening right now." he said jokingly.

"Hey, you're on thin ice Gilligan!" Santa said sternly.

Mr. Gilligan raises his hand up in surrender, then asks Santa a question.

"So... is Abby gonna find out?"

"Hoagie, I can't tell the future. I'm just Santa Claus."

"Okay, how about in your opinion. You've been married for bagimillion years." He shrugged.

Santa chuckles, "Ho ho, it depends. How are you gonna explain the no tree and star?"

Hoagie thought about it, "Burglars?"

"Try again."

He thought again, "We lost the star in the attic, seeing as it wouldn't look right without it, we didn't put the tree up. Cera understands."

Santa nods, "Bravo. Nice story."

Hoagie smiles in satisfaction, "Well I am cop, so obviously I can come up with something." He raises his glass, "To Christmas."

Santa follows, "Feliz Navidad. I'm heading to Cuba next."

As the men drink together, watch highlights from the game, and Hoagie imagines a roasting fire, they enjoy this silent moment. That is until Hoagie has a revelation.

"I just realized something, I know you did, too, so I asks... can I cuss in front of you?"

"You're forty-years-old Hoagie, you can say whatever you want."

Hoagie takes his last sips, "Go ahead."

"Hoagie, you know I have powers, right?"

"Damn it!"

* * *

**Finally, my first story in a long time. I know I'm four days late, but I just thought of this. It's 5 A.M. , i'm tired as hell and i'm not publishing another til i get two reviews. So happily holidays, goodnight, and if i offended anyone, then i'm sorry but i'm going to bed. DDK GONE!**


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